


Echo

by ZoSanLaw



Category: One Piece
Genre: Halloween, Hypnosis, M/M, Mild Angst, One Shot, Paranormal, Peace, ZoSan - Freeform, friendly ghost, ghost - Freeform, platonic, sanzo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:22:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoSanLaw/pseuds/ZoSanLaw
Summary: Zoro grew up in a house with a kind spirit. Little did he know about the bond shared between them.





	Echo

**Author's Note:**

> A quick one shot based on the paranormal, cause Halloween! I hope you all enjoy the read!
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful CharlieNozaki! Thank you so much!!

 

The first time it happened, he was three and his babysitter was asleep. Zoro considered it a perfect opportunity to sneak some spicy chips. It turned out to be difficult since they were stacked away on the top shelf. But Zoro was smart and he shifted a chair in front of the counter. He climbed up on the tiled top and then stretched onto his toes, his chubby fingers barely touching the lower shelf. So he jumped.

 

And he should have fallen and hurt himself badly but he didn’t. Instead, he had felt someone hold him under the armpits, keeping him suspended in the air for a second before guiding him back to the counter. Shocked and seeing no one behind him, Zoro had stared at the empty space for a few seconds, even swung his arm in a sad mock of a punch, but he hit nothing but air.

 

Glee and curiosity had overtaken shock and he had jumped again, expecting whoever had held him to show up and do it again. But he landed on the floor, unharmed and safe, without any external help. Irritated, he was about to try again, but got distracted by the packet of chips laying on the counter from where he had jumped.

 

The next time, it happened when he was five and got his first pet. Shea was an English cocker Spaniel and he had taken her to the front lawn to play. But she had escaped from under the fence and had fallen in the gutter hole that the workmen left open in their break. Zoro was trying to control his racing heart and the feeling of dread, tears already making their way down his cheeks as he ran to her. But when he looked into the hole, she was suspended just a foot below, the fur on her neck bundled up like she was being held there.

 

Shocked, again, Zoro hadn’t given it too much thought before pulling her out, and cuddling her close to him as she licked the tears on his face. A thank you had slipped through his lips without realizing it, and a small weight pressed on the crown of his head for half a second before disappearing.

 

It happened many more times, in many different ways. When he told his friends at school about it at age twelve, Luffy laughed and said that Zoro’s house was haunted, and probably by a friendly ghost. Usopp disagreed and suggested Zoro lie better.

 

But the idea stuck, and one night, Zoro sat on his study table, looking down at the Ouija board he’d made himself. Numbers and letters, two circles with ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ written in them, and a coin. A candle for light. Switching off all the lights, he concentrated on the many times he had received help and called out softly, “Are you there?”

 

A flicker of the candle’s light, but the coin remained stationary. Undeterred, he tried again, but was rewarded with nothing. Five times, the same result repeated. Irritated, he blew out the candle and went to sleep.

 

The next morning, the coin was ignored while it rested on the scrawled ‘Yes’.

A few years passed and nothing similar happened. Zoro stayed outdoors more than he stayed indoors, training for baseball and working out in the gym. One night, he came home to an empty house, tired and hungry. Placing his bag on the counter, he opened the fridge, hoping to indulge in some leftovers.  

 

The fridge turned out to be empty. Sighing, and unsurprised at the ignorance of his parents, he simply took out his phone to search for the nearby pizza delivery. Calling the number, he waited for a few seconds before a girl responded and asked for his order.

 

“Yeah, hi. I’d like a pepperoni with double cheese crust, one coke, and some chicken wings on the side.”

 

“A pepper--ouble---” Static interrupted the voice before the call abruptly cut.

The signal was probably weak. Wanting to call again, Zoro got a little frustrated when he noticed there was no signal on his phone.

 

Grumbling, he tried using the landline instead, but it was disconnected too. A little weirded out, he decided to push it aside as nothing and simply grabbed his wallet and phone before leaving the house.

 

As he walked down the porch, he got the weirdest feeling that he was leaving something behind.

 

He was eighteen when he got accepted at Grand Line University to pursue a course in Physiology.

 

He didn’t return home for a long time. Not even for the holidays.

\--

 

Sanji had been here for a while. He had lived in this house for around a century now.

 

He had bought this house with Zoro. They had settled down, away from the hateful eyes of the people. Then the war came and they both went as soldiers. Sanji was exempted from duty when he lost his leg, and from there, Zoro and he were separated. When the war was over and the stacked trains brought back the soldiers, Zoro was not on them. His name appeared on the list of the deceased.

 

Sanji lived there till the end of his days, unwilling to move on. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months to years, and the years passed by quickly… Sanji didn’t move on. One day, he went to sleep after eating some pills. Too many of them, his senile old mind making him forget. He woke up the next day with his leg back in place and body young and fit.

He had seen his body found by the milkman, had seen the fights over the land he left to no one. He saw the years pass and different families live in the house. Some good, some alright, some disgraceful, and a few pathetic. The last two types encountered his wrath, and the house was then deemed haunted.

 

A priest appeared, a few times, trying to rid the place of demons. Sanji stood next to him as he recited the bible while dropping Holy water in the rooms. He was never affected. Never.

 

Then one day, after scaring a rather atrocious man who had beaten his wife to death, a special spirit hunter was called. He ordered that the house be burned to the ground to free it of its curse. And Sanji could do nothing as he stood in between the flames, watching his memories catch flames and burn to ashes. He felt every part of him being ripped apart as he saw everything burn to the ground. But he still didn’t move on.

 

A new house was built, modern, with flat screen TVs and fridges. New rooms and a better lawn area. A floor overhead and beautiful bathrooms. Despite his pain, Sanji couldn’t deny the wonders of the new world technology.

 

A family came to live there. Not a happy one but not abusive either. The woman gave birth to a baby boy in the tub in the upstairs bathroom. Sanji had been oddly attached to the boy. It took him a while to understand why.

 

The boy had the same features Zoro did. The same curiosity in the eyes and the same seriousness. And Sanji was fascinated.

 

When he was a baby, he seemed to be able to see Sanji, he used to stare at him with his thumb in mouth. During his naming ceremony, the boy was named Zoro, and Sanji only sensed their bonds deepen.

 

As he grew, however, the bond from Zoro’s side seemed to weaken as he stopped looking anymore. There were instances when Sanji was able to touch the boy instead of just pass through him. He was warm and he was alive, his heart beating with the sound of life. And that was enough for Sanji.

 

So he hung around, watching the boy, helping him where he could. Around twelve years later, when he was sure Zoro was asleep, he was watching the TV on mute with subtitles. The wonders of the current technology. It was a movie of a man who made a metal suit around something scientific that kept his heart beating.

 

It was then when he felt. He was a spirit, a ghost. He hadn’t felt anything other than emotions in a while. But he suddenly felt a pull. Like gravity. A feeling of something pulling him. He had followed it, and it led to Zoro’s room. He passed through the door to find the boy staring intently at a coin. And then he heard the soft whisper, “Are you there?”

Sanji walked over to the table, for some reason. The movement shifted the air around him and the candle flickered. He stopped. What was happening?

 

“Are you there?” Zoro repeated, a whisper with a little more urgency.

 

The pull acted again, and he walked another step closer to the boy. Was this possible? A way to connect? Nothing in the past had worked. Why this? Peering over the boy’s shoulder, he saw a paper, with letters and numbers scrawled on them. There were two circles with ‘Yes’ and ‘No’written in them and a coin sat between them.

 

“Are you there?” a little more determined and a little more irritated.

 

Glancing at the boy, the pull tethering him to the spot, he looked at the coin. Joining the dots, he extended his hand and tried pulling the coin to ‘Yes.’ Nothing happened. His finger didn’t touch the coin.

 

“Are you there?”

 

“Yes,” Sanji replied. There was no sound. He didn’t really have a voice.  “Yes,” he thought as he tried repeatedly to move the coin, to talk, to not be alone.

 

“Are… are you there?” He sounded resigned.

 

Sanji heard the resignation in his voice and he glanced at the boy once, his tension mounting.

 

The times when he had been able to touch or help Zoro had been instantaneous, sudden. In those moment, a surge of emotions.

 

The pull suddenly lifted and darkness fell when Zoro blew out the candle. He seemed frustrated as he went to the bed and just slumped on it.

 

Sanji watched him. He watched the boy’s frustration. Watched him give up on him too soon. The loss of the force left him empty, hollow. Like he was alone…. Because he was alone.

 

Sadness overtook him and in that moment, he turned to the board and touched the coin, feeling it under his finger and moved it, too late, to ‘Yes’.

 

\---

 

Zoro glared at Nami from where she sat on a seat near the bed. The room was dark with a few candles arranged around the room. The air was heavy with sage smoke and the scent of incense. It was working its way to making Zoro drowsy. He hated Nami for putting him in this situation. He didn’t even believe in the past birth.

“You’re just scared of the possibility,” Nami said, sunglasses hiding her eyes while she chewed on her gum and turned the steering wheel to the right.

 

And Zoro had agreed to try it out.

 

Right now, in this room, he regretted it. He regretted a lot of things he had agreed to do with Nami.

 

Madame Sharley leaned over him, her hood shrouding her face in darkness.

 

“Blink,” she said, her voice deep, calm, the voice vibrating his very core.

 

Zoro blinked once and looked at her, where he could see the hint of her eyes.

 

“Put your hands on the side.”

 

Zoro complied, letting his hands rest on the sides of his body, still looking at her.

 

“Breathe.”

 

Zoro did.

 

“Deeply.”

 

The room started to blur as she spoke, her voice surprisingly clear despite sleep overtaking him.

 

“Close your eyes. Relax.”

 

The voice echoed softly, still clear, without a face to go with it, coming from somewhere in the darkness. He tried to look around but there was nothing.

 

“Relax,” the voice repeated.

 

And for some reason, Zoro relaxed, letting himself drift.

 

“What do you see around yourself?”

 

He looked around in a daze, still seeing darkness.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You will look at your feet when I count from three to zero. There will be stairs.”

 

“Three.”

 

Zoro relaxed, seeing nothing, feeling nothing.

 

“Two.”

 

The darkness shifted, it moved, and molded around him.

 

“One.”

 

It started to settle, forming shapes.

 

“Zero.”

 

Zoro stood on the top of a flight of stairs in his house.

 

“There are stairs.”

 

“Good,” the voice hummed. “Do you see a corridor at the end?”

 

He looked up to see his front door.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay.. How many stairs are there?”

 

Zoro looked down again, counting, “Ten.”

 

“Okay. I’ll count down from ten to zero. With each number, take one step.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Ten…..”

 

By the time zero came, Zoro was standing in front of the door.

 

“How many doors are there?”

 

He looked around. There were many. Five.

 

“Five.”

 

“Concentrate on your current life. Reach out for the door that connects your current life with the relevant past life.”

 

Zoro thought of his life till then. Friends and fun. A little loneliness, the feeling of missing someone in his life. The doors started to vanish into nothingness till just one remained.

 

“There’s one door.”

 

“That’s good. Open it and tell me what you see.”

 

Zoro extended his arm and turned the knob. The door swung open, slowly, noiselessly. He stepped out, to a round room, surrounded by an built-in sofa on all sides while the windows displayed a starry night.

 

“It’s a room.”

 

“Describe it, please.”

 

Zoro looked around, speaking what came to mind. “It’s huge… a circular room. It’s like a study. There are weights and windows… Sofa all around the wall.. There’s stars.. Clear night.”

 

“Okay, I need you to take a seat on that sofa.”

 

Zoro did.

 

“Look out the window. Tell me what you see.”

 

Zoro looked out and the view was breathtaking. Stars dotted the clear, infinite sky where it extended to meet the sea, reflecting the sky. It looked like a galaxy. Far below him, he noticed the ship was sailing softly on the water, the deck layered with a beautiful mowed lawn and a tree with swings. The head was the shape of a beautiful lion, rearing up, ready to kill, and the mast stood tall, the sails white and blowing with the nonexistent wind.

 

“Beautiful.” The word left his mouth.

 

“I need you to call out to the world, Zoro. Silently, in your mind. Ask to be guided in a life that holds a connection to the one you live in.”

 

He did as he was told, looking far into the ocean, drinking in the view, storing it in his mind. It felt serene.

 

He sensed something. He sensed…. Something.

 

“Something is happening,” he said to the voice. “I can’t explain it.”

 

“Do you feel an energy around you?”

 

Zoro paused to think. He felt like he was surrounded. Hallowed. Like something stood near him, protecting him.

 

“Yes,” he muttered, eyes not leaving the sky.

 

“I thank them for coming. On your behalf and mine. They always do.”

 

Zoro kept quite, saying nothing as he lived in the trance.

 

“Where are you sitting, Zoro? Is there a path you can take?”

 

Zoro looked around the room, noticing a trap door. Looking out the window, he realized it was his way to the deck.

 

“Down. I can go down to the deck. I’m on the crow’s nest.”

 

“Alright, Zoro. Take the path down to the deck.”

 

Zoro stood and approached the door, his footsteps heavy, yet no noise came.

 

“When you go down to the deck, there will be some mist. I need you to be brave and go in it. Breathe it in.”

 

Zoro opened the trapdoor and he could barely make out the rope ladder that would take him down. Fog and mist shrouded the previously beautiful night.

 

He leaned out and started to climb down, surprisingly able to find every loop.

 

“When you touch the deck, you will have reached the life that links you to your current one. You will be there as an observer.”

 

The mist started to thin as he continued down the ladder, and then he finally landed.

 

“Look at your feet. Tell me what you’re standing on.”

 

He looked down, noticing the off-white cemented tiles and the dirt and leaves rolling off it with the wind.

 

“A footpath.”

 

“What are you wearing?”

 

Looking further up, he saw a graze on one knee and torn material around it. He was wearing a shirt and his pants were held up by two straps over his shoulders.

 

“Some kind of overalls. And a shirt.”

 

“How old are you? What do you look like?”

 

Looking up, the scene around him appearing with more clarity, he saw himself. He was shocked  as it was a younger version of himself, the same eyes and the same complexion..

 

“Around seven. I look like me.”

 

“You mean, the way you do in this life?”

 

“Yes,” Zoro whispered.

 

“Alright. What are you doing?”

 

Zoro watched as he and another boy compared their wounds, arguing over who got it worse. The blond won but only because he had hurt the area around his elbows too.

 

“Playing. With a friend.”

 

“Is your friend a boy or a girl?”

 

“A boy.”

 

“Okay, Zoro. I need you to look into the friend’s eyes and I'll count down from one to zero. And you'll know how you're connected to the boy in your current life.”

 

Zoro shifted his focus to the blond boy, a lot shorter than him and a lot thinner. He had partially curly hair and a section of it fell in one of his eyes. Zoro looked in them. They were shockingly blue and screamed innocence.

 

“One.”

 

For a moment, the eyes looked back at him, like they could see him too. Zoro felt a pull in his gut and memories from his current life flew across his mind. The time he was saved from falling off the counter, the time his puppy was saved, all those times he felt a relaxing aura in his room, the Ouija board, the connection on his mobile and landline acting funny.

 

“Zero. You know now.”

 

Zoro gasped as the blond looked back at the other him. He blinked rapidly, trying to breathe. What!?

 

He felt someone touch his forehead and run a calming hand through his hair. “It's alright, Zoro. You're alright,” the voice hummed. “Do you know that friend in your current life?”

 

“I..” He stared at the boy, unable to comprehend. Those had been mere coincidences. Something his mind made up for him when he was young. But the image of him asking for the ghost to talk to him via the Ouija board played through his mind, repeatedly.

 

“He's there.”

 

“Okay. On the count of three, you will have moved on to the next significant moment in that lifetime.”

 

“One.”

 

The scene dissolved around him in half a second and started to reform.

 

“Two.”

 

It settled around him and started taking the form of a house.

 

“Three. Describe what you see.”

 

Zoro saw himself, a little older this time, staring at a couch from a doorway. Looking in the same direction, he saw the blond from before, also older, sharing a small kiss with a young brunette girl.

 

“I'm in a house. With him again, but there is a girl too. I don't think I like her too much.”

 

“Look into the girl’s eye, Zoro. I'll count down from one. On zero, you'll see how you are connected to her in the second life. One.”

 

Zoro walked closer to the girl and, same as before, for a second, their eyes met. She had deep black eyes and elegance in her features. Memories, happy and irritated memories of his time with Nami surfaced, meeting her in grade five and connected since.

 

“Zero. Do you know?”

 

“Nami.” He smiled.

 

And like before, the connection was lost and the girl was looking at the boy again.

 

“Can you describe how your old self is feeling?”

 

Zoro looked to the door, watching the hurt expression on his face.

 

“I'm hurt.”

 

“Why?”

 

As if in a trance, he replied, “Because he kissed her.”

 

There was a pause as the blonde kept talking to the blushing girl, smiling and playing with her fingers, leaning in on her.

 

“You like her?”

 

“No, I like him.” The words left his mouth.

 

“Can you find out his name?”

 

Zoro looked at the girl, giggling before she said, “Stop it, Sanji,” hitting the blond softly with her hand.

 

“Sanji.”

 

“And yours?”

 

Sanji looked over from the couch at Zoro and grinned, giving him a quick thumbs-up. Zoro was quick enough to hide his hurt and smile back. The blonde called him over then. “C’mon in, Zoro.”

 

“Zoro.”

 

“Same name too?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is there anything else you feel right now?”

 

Zoro watched as the younger him came into the room and sat next to the blond.

 

“Nothing. Just hurt.”

 

“On the count of three, the next significant incident will recreate itself.”

 

It continued like this.

 

He watched himself and Sanji fighting, cussing and punching at the age of fifteen. He saw them kissing for the first time at the age of sixteen. He saw himself and Sanji being beaten up for being queer. He saw both of them avenging the bullies. He saw the night at age seventeen when they exchanged rings, with the brunette there to support them. He could see she was a little heartbroken but she came nonetheless.

 

He saw when they bought their house. He saw them enjoying themselves as they filled it with furniture and happiness. He caught a glimpse of when they first consummated the marriage, filled with love and devotion to one another.

 

He saw at age twenty, both of them fighting in the war. He saw himself carry a wounded Sanji back to the camp, fearing for his dear life. He saw himself separated from the blond and cried because it was the last time he saw him.

 

He saw himself lying amongst many other soldiers, bleeding, barely breathing. He saw regret of not being with Sanji in his last moments. He watched as a tear escaped him, and with Sanji’s name on his last breath, he finally passed away.

 

Sharley’s voice spoke to him through it all. He felt his tears being absorbed by the repeated touch of a handkerchief. She guided him to a white light above him. She asked him to stay there a while.

 

He looked around, again in a trance, floating freely in the light.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

How did he feel?

 

He didn't know.

 

“Do you feel like you got any answers? To some questions?”

 

Zoro thought back. Answers, no. He didn't really have many questions to begin with. But for some reason, the feeling of someone missing from his life had disappeared. It was replaced with contentment.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I'll count down from five. With every number, you will rise twenty times from your subconscious to conscious mind. Five.”

 

As she counted, the light around him dimmed and he slowly felt himself surface. The first thing he noted was the existence of a body binding him to Earth; the second, his sense of smell and taste; third, his sense of the surrounding; fourth, it felt like he was waking up from the dream.

 

“Zero. You can open your eyes.”

 

Zoro blinked repeatedly, the images around him slightly blurred, and he realised it was because of unshed tears. He felt the dab of the handkerchief again, and his sight slowly cleared. The room was a lot darker, the candles almost burnt out, the air a little lightly scented.

 

He could make out Nami sitting on the same chair, her eyes a little red and mascara smudged. He knew she had cried.

 

“How do you feel?” Madame Sharley asked, interrupting the peace.

 

He looked at her, and nodded, “Good.”

 

“Good.” She nodded back, then started to help him up.

 

He felt numb. Nami did all the talking from then on and, when they left the shop and got in the car, Zoro felt surreal.

 

They sat there in silence for a long while. Nami didn't start the car.

 

Then she snorted.

 

Zoro looked up at her as she started laughing and shaking her head.

 

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

 

She shook her head, finally starting the engine and putting the car in gear. “Nothing. Just…” She looked at Zoro in the eye. “It's like gay runs in your very soul.”

 

Zoro laughed, louder than he should have as he looked ahead on the dash and Nami backed out of the parking and took off to their apartment.

 

When he calmed down, he hummed and looked out the window at the sky. It was not a clear sky but it was beautiful all the same. He sighed, “I need to go back,” he said, knowing, without looking, that Nami agreed.

 

\--

 

Sanji felt miserable. He stayed in Zoro’s room throughout the day, unwilling to leave. The parents were never home and when they were, they lived in different rooms and went away early the next day. It was like the house was a hotel.

 

He wasn't able to understand the reason behind him staying here. He didn't understand why he wasn't able to leave. He had tried to move past it all. But deep inside his heart, he didn't even understand what it was that he waited for.

 

A century as a ghost and still no peace.

 

The sound of the front door unlocking made him look up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets” for the thousandth time.

 

It was still light out, so he doubted it was the parents. Robbers? The house did have some fine furniture and technology, and Sanji had seen the missus place some expensive jewellery in the safe in her closet.

 

Setting the book aside, he stood up and sank down onto the floor, landing on the drawing room carpet lightly. Whoever had come was talking rather loudly, shuffling in the entrance corridor. There were two voices, male and female. Sanji walked closer but stopped when the two walked into the room instead.

 

He froze, staring at Zoro, looking exactly like his own a century ago. He was talking to a red-haired beautiful lady, pointing out the counters in the kitchen area and the shelves above them.

 

“Zoro…” The whisper left him, coming out clear. It shocked him even more. He hadn't had a voice in a long time.

 

\---

 

Zoro pointed out the counter where he had felt Sanji hold him, preventing the fall. “That's where it happened,” he told Nami.

 

Before she could respond, he heard a whisper of his name, feeling goosebumps rise on his neck, and he turned around in shock, as did Nami, neither expecting anyone to be home. They caught the glimpse, a blur of a blond man staring back at them, shocked, before disappearing.

 

Deafening silence befell the room as both of them stared at the spot. Then Nami spoke. “Did you see..”

 

“Yeah,” Zoro nodded, interrupting her. “I did.”

 

He looked around the room again, trying to see Sanji again, but it was impossible. He tried calling out. “Sanji?” he asked. “I know you're here. We can talk.”

 

“How..” The whisper echoed, like it came from every surface in the room.

 

Zoro looked around again, talking, ignoring the chills all over his body and Nami’s grip on his forearm, her nails digging in his skin. “I.. I'm Zoro. You remember me, don't you?”

 

“Zoro.” Nami squeezed him tighter.

 

“He won't hurt us, Nami,” he consoled her, without looking at her.

 

“No, look at the TV,” she whispered.

 

He looked at the TV and saw himself and Nami reflected on the black screen, but there was also a shimmer that stood right in front of Zoro.

 

His heart stopped for a second before racing. He looked up, hoping he was looking into Sanji’s eyes.

 

“Sanji,” he said. “Can you talk?”

 

The shimmer vanished. And suddenly the room felt empty. Zoro and Nami shared a glance, but before either of them could speak, they heard the sound of something hitting the floor in the room upstairs. Recognising it as his own, Zoro rushed upstairs, Nami right behind him.

 

He entered the room and there, near his shelf, a box with his old toys and comic books lay broken on the floor, its contents spilling. Zoro approached the mess and bent over it, Nami doing the same. Amidst the toys lay an old battered paper, folded and crumpled. It had fallen out from one of his comic books.

 

Understanding flashed through Zoro and he picked up the paper as he stood up, opening it and viewing the contents. It was the Ouija board he had tried drawing himself.

 

“He’s trying to talk,” Nami whispered, looking at the paper from over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah,” Zoro nodded. “We need to make a new one.” He held up the crumbled paper.

 

Nodding, Nami turned and headed out of the room. Zoro stayed, looking around at his room. He noticed his Harry Potter on the bed and smirked. “That’s my favourite too, cook.”

 

Sanji felt the floor slip from under his feet - metaphorically. Technically, he didn’t need a floor to walk or stand on. But the boy… this boy, Zoro, had spoken the same words his own used to speak.

 

How.. was that possible.

 

“So,” Zoro said, sitting on the bed and staring around the room. “I guess, I should explain a few things to you before we get the board set up.”

 

“It’ll sound crazy.”

 

Sanji stared at Zoro, unable to believe that he was talking to him.

 

“I remember,” the green haired boy said. “I.. I remember us.”

 

If Sanji had a heart, he knew it would stop beating in that moment. Feelings surged through him as he heard Zoro talk, overtaking the loneliness he brooded in.

 

“I remember, the house, that was here. I remember the rings. I remember our vows… Till the end of time.” Zoro stared at his hands as he spoke. “I remember the candles, the time near the hearth…. Sanji, I remember us.”

 

The lights in the room flickered, and Zoro looked up at a fine outline of a man standing near him. His breath caught.

 

“Sanji…” he said, extending his hand. “ Do you remember me?” he asked.

 

The door to his room slammed shut, all the lights turning on, exceeding their voltage, and the fan started to rotate at high speed. Zoro didn’t flinch, not once, just staring at the concrete yet misty form of Sanji appearing before him. The blond raised his hand, his eyes full of unshed tears and hope.

 

He pressed the tip of his finger to Zoro’s, and breathed in, loud, when he felt the contact.

 

Misery left him, the pain left him as he suddenly felt light, unburdened; heavy weights removed themselves from his very soul, that had kept him harboured till day. He was filled with happiness and joy. With contentment. He was filled with hope. He was filled with love.

 

It lasted for a few seconds before that too left him, leaving him floating, at peace. Only one tether held him there, the contact with the soul he loved.

 

Zoro watched as the man solidified in front of him, filling Zoro with a sense of completion like never before. The place where their fingers touched spread warmth through his entire being, connecting them on a level unexplored.

 

Memories of their time together in his past life flashed through his mind, the love for the man standing in front of him running through his veins and making him feel at home.

 

It lasted for a few seconds before Sanji started to fade again, but this time happier, brighter.

He smiled down at Zoro, as the lights in the room reached their peak. “I’ll wait for you,” he said. It was a promise.

 

And then he was gone.

 

Surprisingly the feeling of contentment didn’t disappear with the blond. It lived and it throbbed with each beat.

 

It took him a few seconds to realize that Nami was practically trying to break down the door. He stood up, too dazed to talk, and opened the door, only to be hit in the chest by a strong shoulder that he knew would have broken the door.

 

He fell back on the floor, Nami on top of him, screaming his name in relief. Laughter left him as he hugged her, ignoring her rant about worrying her. He ruffled her hair once and as calm silence fell in the room, she asked, hesitant, “Is he gone?”

 

Zoro sighed, staring at the fan coming to a slow stop in his room. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s at peace now.”

 

“Did you two talk?”

 

Zoro hummed, remembering the look of serenity on the blond’s face. “Maybe in another lifetime.”

 

THE END


End file.
